


Leave the Glasses On

by BlessedMasochist



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Fix-It, Frottage, Light Angst, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 18:31:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18744688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlessedMasochist/pseuds/BlessedMasochist
Summary: [Fix-It / Scene Extention - 5x05 "Pena Dura"]After exchanging a promise to never turn on one another again, Oswald agrees to conceal Edward from the GCPD until they've gathered enough evidence to prove his innocence. While Edward takes a much-needed shower, Oswald can't help but stick his nose where it doesn't belong, and an unusual discovery produces unexpected results.





	Leave the Glasses On

Oswald wasn't wasn't snooping.  
  
He wasn't snooping, he was assisting his _dear_ friend in unpacking his things- at least that's what he assured himself as he slowly ran the worn zipper around the length of the suitcase. After all, there was nothing more to fear, was there? They had both made amends when Edward arrived at the citadel, assuring one other that if there were to be any further dissent between them, it would be made known directly. Still, a healthy sense of paranoia was Oswald's bread and butter, and he flipped open the case curiously while Edward was busy down the hall, washing several week's worth of dirt from his skin in the steam-filled bathroom.  
  
There wasn't much to be seen within the battered piece of luggage; a few rumpled garments, a worn pair of shoes, several torn paperback books, some sort of recorder (with dead batteries), and a leather-bound journal filled with scribbles of nonsense he didn't care to decipher. Pleased by the lack of weaponry, Oswald hurriedly worked to conceal the evidence of his perusal when the sharp gleam of light on glass caught his eye.  
  
"Oh you have got to be joking..."  
  
Oswald wrinkled his nose as he pulled out a pair of chipped frames, turning them over in his hand with a morbid interest as he recognized the familiar shape.   
  
_Kristen Kringle._  
  
He was positive that he himself had buried the offending eyeglasses in the woods a long time ago- at the other man's request; surely Edward hadn't gone to the trouble of retrieving them? That would mean they were Isabelle's then- that foolish carbon copy.  
  
_'What was so special about that damned woman?'_  
  
Feeling petty, and perhaps more than a bit jealous, Oswald slipped the frames into his pocket and zipped the worn suitcase as it was before, inspecting it a moment before retreating to his own room.   
  
Sliding behind the oversized vanity mirror, he began his nightly skin care routine- something he'd picked up during his campaign in an attempt to improve his appearance. The results spoke for themselves, so he'd continued long after his impeachment. Carefully dabbing a cool cream beneath his eyes, he could not help but curse the prominence of the dark circles. Nothing seemed to help, short of a generous amount of concealer. He envied Edward's need for glasses, they did wonders covering the persistent imperfection.   
  
At that thought, a small smirk tugged at his lip. He fished the stolen spectacles from the pocket of his robe, turning them over in his hand for a moment before sliding them on. They were a more feminine frame, ends turned up in a gentle slant, but they did cover the bags beneath his eyes. Chuckling in wicked amusement, he could not help but feel smug, alive as he was while the two boring women lay beneath the dirt rotting.  "Oh Isabelle, if only you had some substance~" he cackled, admiring his reflection.  
  
"Oswald, have you been in my-"  
  
Edward stopped short at the door, words catching in his throat as he caught Oswald's wide blue eyes reflected in the mirror; those glasses were unmistakable. He swallowed heavily, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as he stared, unmoving. "What are you doing with those?" He asked, voice strangely hoarse as he took several long, slow steps toward his friend.    
  
"I..."   
  
Silver tongue be damned, he couldn't think of a single excuse for his actions, certainly not one that Edward would believe and he was growing closer by the second, suddenly far too close as he bent down, snatching Oswald's jaw with a bruising force. The his fingers dug painfully into the bone, forcing his gaze upward roughly.   
  
"Ed, I'm sorry I just-"  
  
The words died at his lips as Edward's mouth came crashing down against his own without warning, teeth clicking roughly against one another. A shocked sound slid from somewhere deep within Oswald, unable to react as the taller man's hunger burst forth in an uncontrollable surge. His hands were roaming down his sides now, pulling at the thick brocade robe as he pulled Oswald closer roughly.   
  
"Ed!" He gasped, pushing against his chest with an open palm.   
  
Edward's pupils were dark, long wet strands of hair hanging damp on his brow as he stared down at his dear friend, lips slick and pink. A flush was creeping across his cheekbones, as though he were finally processing his actions.

"Do you... Do you want them back?" Oswald asked nervously, mind buzzing with more than enough thoughts to occupy him nightly for weeks. His lips tingled, body aching for those hands to touch him again, but now Edward looked mortified and the dictator had to quash the urge to flee his own room.  
  
"No" Edward said after a lengthy pause, clearly working through some sort of internal struggle. "Leave them on." His hands were on Oswald again, pulling him up to stand by the shoulders of his robe.   
  
"What are you _doing_?" the smaller man whispered apprehensively, taking a step back for each one Edward took until his legs collided with the edge of the bed; he was pinned.   
  
"Will you please let me do this Oswald?" He breathed, voice low and desperate as he leaned in, lips eagerly finding the smooth, pale skin of his neck. He kissed and mouthed at him hungrily, drawing the flesh between his teeth roughly to mark him.   
  
If Oswald had any plans to protest, they were quickly outranked by the immediate rush of pleasure he felt, body melting into Edward's hold with a scandalized moan. "Ed why... why now?,"  he managed to ask, heat pooling in his stomach as his dear friend's tongue traced the taut muscle of his neck.   
  
"What can I say, I like the glasses," Ed replied with a growl, pushing him back against the mattress firmly. Minding his leg, he loomed atop him, predatory as his eyes traveled the parted edges of the dark robe, stark in contrast to the pale skin of Oswald's heaving chest.   
  
"Edward Nygma that's not a good enough reason!" He protest, a red flush creeping across the speckled bridge of his nose.  He sounded as though he might push the other man away, yet made no move to do so as he inched ever closer, coaxing the edges of his robe further apart.   
  
"I've wanted this," Edward confess, mouth on him again, "for longer than I care to admit, even to myself." He sucked another dark purple spot into the pale canvas he'd uncovered.   
  
Oswald's head was spinning. Certainly it was something he'd imagined, lust for even, but having it thrust upon him so suddenly was enough to overwhelm the senses. He hadn't the capacity to protest, much less hold his robe shut. As the heavy fabric parted and slid from his sides, Oswald's arousal was revealed; hard and dribbling precome onto his belly.  
  
Edward sucked in a breath at the sight, for the first moment in his life he was utterly speechless. There were no riddles, no morbid jokes, not even a nervous chuckle as his dark eyes soaked in every last detail, lest he forget. "Oswald I've made a grave error in spurning you for so long, please allow me to beg for your forgiveness," he whispered, unable to tear his gaze away as his trembling hands finally made contact with the soft skin of the other man's thighs, kneading gently with his fingertips as he patiently await permission to do more.  
  
"Ed..."   
  
For once, the man who could talk his way out of any situation had no words to choose from, fearing his heart would burst through his chest at any moment. Had he been presented with the opportunity in advance he could have planned a scathing remark, accuse the other man of using him, yet he could sense the sincerity in Edward's voice, the desperation in his touch.   
  
"Oswald please..." the lovesick man pleaded, pressing his lips to his knee reverently, fingers rubbing the snarled muscle with a tender gentility. “I’m so sorry for everything I've done."  
  
"I don't think anyone could have the strength to refuse you, least of all me," Oswald breathed, finally relaxing into the other man's touch with a soft, shuddering sigh. "Eddie, I've missed you, please-"  
  
"Shh..."  
  
Edward hushed him, large frame dwarfing the smaller man's once more as he kissed his neck hungrily. "There is so much that I want to say Oswald, but right now..." he pressed his hardened erection against the side of Oswald's thigh, "...let's not talk."

"Oh my god," the dictator moaned in disbelief, wide blue eyes meeting Edward's for a brief moment before his lips were covered by his friend's mouth, tongue pushing it's way between them with a deep groan. Oswald was rutting up against him now, unable to deny his body its greedy desire.   
  
When Edward finally came up for a proper lungful of air his lips were swollen and pink, dark hair hanging in his eyes as he surveyed Oswald, as though he were deciding what to do with him. His hands trembled, hovering over the other man's body in uncertainty, overwhelmed by choice.   
  
"Undress," Oswald commanded, suddenly taking charge. He could see Edward was stuck in a mental loop, and though he would love to give him time to sort things out on his own, the greedy bird was growing impatient. Without warning, he removed the frames from his nose, throwing them over Ed's shoulder onto the floor with a satisfying clatter.   
  
Any protest Edward had died the moment Oswald sat up and peeled off the rest of his robe, pale body bared fiercely in the low light of the bedroom. How hideous and beautiful he was; skin littered with as many scars as he had freckles, right knee twisted and swollen from a long day's work.   
  
"You've come into my room unannounced and undressed me, the least you could do is take some clothes off," he reminded petulantly, masking his nervousness with a trademark scowl.

Edward's curious eyes were upon him, gaze somehow both clinical and lusting as it surveyed his body. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes from Oswald, peeling off his white undershirt and tossing it to the floor. Edward had scars of his own, though their origins were vastly different. There was no room for shame, each bore their wounds proudly to one another.   
  
"Now the underwear," Oswald prompted, eyes hungrily following the soft trail of hair that disappeared below the waistband, finally gathering the courage to peek at the prominent bulge straining against the plaid fabric.   
  
With a plump lower lip caught between his teeth, Edward eased the elastic over his hips, cock springing free with a heavy bounce. His ego swelled considerably as Oswald's eyes widened, unable to keep from smirking. "Do I live up to expectation, Ossie?" He purred, slipping the fabric over his knees. It joined the undershirt on the floor.  
  
"Come here right now," the small bird hissed, arms outstretched demandingly. He managed to grab his shoulder, pulling him down roughly. Not accounting for the weight of Edward's frame, he grunted as the taller man's body collided with his own, gasping eagerly as their lengths found one another with a slick friction.   
  
"Oswald..."   
  
Edward shuddered his name, immediately repeating the action with a roll of his sharp hips. It was oddly similar to foreplay shared with his female lovers, yet so unique to them alone. His dear friend was so responsive, cheeks flushed beautifully as he fought to maintain something that resembled a passive expression.   
  
"Ed, I don't want to sound impatient-"  
  
"You sound impatient," Ed interrupted, licking his lips as he continued his relentless frottage, much to Oswald's dismay.  
  
"Bedside drawer. Now." the dictator demanded, pushing the larger man off him roughly.  
  
Leaning over the edge, Edward yanked open the drawer to find a tube labeled 'personal lubricant with aloe vera'.  _Half empty._ Raising an eyebrow, he held it up, looking nervous. "...Been busy?"  
  
"Do I really strike you as the type to have frivolous sex during a war?" Oswald quipped, moving closer to the center of the bed.  
  
"You didn't strike me as the type to be a chronic masturbator but I suppose the world is filled with surprises~" Edward replied, voice dripping with its usual amount of snark.   
  
"Are you finished insulting me? Talk less!" Oswald shouted, throwing a small decorative pillow. The pause in action was giving his nervousness time to bloom in the pit of his stomach and it made him irritable.

"You realize this isn't exactly my area of expertise," Edward murmured, kneeling on the bed as he turned the bottle over in his hand. It couldn't be terribly different, he assumed, drizzling a generous amount over two fingers. An asshole wasn't self-lubricating, but the process was surely overall similar to fingering a woman.  
  
"Edward Nygma admitting he isn't a master at something?" Oswald taunted, easing his legs apart with a feigned confidence.   
  
Ed settled back between his legs, nudging his thighs apart to press his slick fingers against the other man's entrance. His boldness drew a sharp gasp from his dear friend, emboldening his movement as he slipped them both inside.  
  
"Fuck," Oswald groaned, offering a rare expletive as he tilt his hips upward, providing the other man with a more constructive angle. Edward's fingers were longer than his own, grazing something within him that he often struggled to reach. "Don't worry about hurting me... just, _move_ , stretch me out so I can take you properly," he mumbled, clapping a hand over his mouth firmly as the other man immediately took his advice and began to scissor him open gently. 

Edward couldn't help but smirk as he soaked up his dear friend's _overwhelming_ response, finding it doubly satisfying to draw such sounds from the powerful man. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself like this, Ossie?” he purred heatedly, ego swelling with every writhing gasp he elicit. The smaller man offered only a quiet squeak in reply, seeing stars as Ed crooked his fingers just right.

“Enough!” Oswald shouted suddenly, pulling away from the other man. “I’m ready, hurry up.” He demanded, situating himself on the pillows as he watched Edward reluctantly slick himself with an overly generous amount of lube. “Don’t waste it!” he quipped, recalling how difficult it had been to acquire in the first place.

“You’re doing an awful lot of talking for someone who just request we keep it to a minimum,” Ed grumbled, stomach doing somersaults as he nudged Oswald’s legs apart again, gently propping his bad limb up out of the way against his shoulder. Their eyes met, both tensing noticeably as Edward’s length slid between Oswald’s rounded cheeks, soft pink head coming to rest firmly against his twitching entrance.

Crimson now, the mobster suddenly looked away, brow furrowed nervously as his friend’s cock slid wetly against him, body caught in a violent whirlwind of arousal and years of tender emotion.

“Look at me Oswald… _please_ ,” Edward breathed, brown eyes soft as he gently tilt the other man’s face towards him. “I need you to see me when I do this.” As their eyes met once more he pressed forward, mouth dropping open in ecstasy as the head of his length was swallowed up in Oswald’s tight heat. They moaned in union, and Edward found he could not stop from burying himself to the hilt.

More vulnerable now than ever before, Oswald cried out softly, fingernails scraping red lines across the other man’s shoulders as he found himself impossibly full. “Edward!” he cried out, eyes brimming with tears as his emotions caught up with the moment.  
  
“Oswald- am I hurting you?” he gasped worriedly, held helplessly in place by his friends grip.

“Shh no, I’m fine,” he breathed, swiping at his cheeks. “Move.”

It was as though a switch had been flipped within him, nothing more needed be said as Edward withdrew suddenly, only to push back inside with a satisfied groan. “Oh my…”

It didn’t take long to find a pace that suited both their tastes, Oswald spurring the other man on with various unique combinations of praise and insult; somehow they were more at ease when they were a bit at odds with one another.

“Come on Ed, right there, don’t stop!” Oswald demanded with a gasp, stroking himself eagerly toward release as Edward struck that spot within him that made his guts stir. “Oh god, **Eddie**!”

Thighs trembling, he came between them, cum dribbling lewdly between his curled fingers onto his stomach as the other man continued to rut against him.

“O-Oswald I’m going to ejaculate” the taller man moaned deeply, thrusts growing frantic and uneven. He cursed his clunky vocabulary as he saw the expression on the other man’s face shift.

Oswald covered his face with his hands, but said nothing, unable to keep from gasping at a particularly deep thrust. “You can… inside me,” he pant, peering up at his dear friend through narrowly parted fingers.

Their eyes met and Edward doubled over with a loud cry of pleasure, at last finding completion with the only person to love him for who he was. “ _Oswald!_ ”  

 Crushed beneath the other man’s weight, the flushed bird buried his face in the crook of his lover’s neck, kissing gently as they caught their breath. “Will you sleep here tonight?” he breathe, gasping quietly as the other man slipped from inside him, long limbs encircling him in an instant.

 “I was worried you’d send me out…” Edward confessed, burying his nose in the sweet-smelling tufts of black hair. His stomach fluttered nervously when the other man’s hand rest gently atop his own, guiding his arm tighter about his waist.

 “Stay. Stay as long as you want.” Oswald whispered, feeling drowsy. “We can talk in the morning over breakfast, I think I’ll take it in bed…” his eyes drooped shut, corners of his mouth turning upward slightly as he settled back against his dear friend, his lover, his _Edward_. “Good night Eddie” he breathed, a warm feeling of contentment washing over his tired frame as sleep took hold.

“Good night Oswald”


End file.
